


And Now He's Got a Man!

by xanzpet (gleefulmusings)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mild Language, Romantic Comedy, Season/Series 03, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 05:46:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/xanzpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander likes watching Percy. Percy likes being watched, particularly by Xander. So he's going to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Genesis

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story was shamelessly gakked from a _Golden Girls_ episode.

Xander knew he was in trouble the moment he saw Percy West detour from the lacrosse team which traveled the halls of the high school like a pack of wild boars. The other boys, rudderless without their _de facto_ leader, quickly dispersed, some heading for classes or lockers, others to harass girls or underclassmen.

He quickly began pulling books from his own locker, not hearing Willow when she explained he was removing texts for classes he had finished earlier in the day. Buffy was rambling about her latest Angel crisis, and while he tried to muster some sense of sympathy or concern, he really couldn't be bothered, and so let Willow handle the reassurances and hugs.

"Hey."

Xander breathed through his nose, his face staring into the gaping maw of his locker, its blackness suddenly infinite, like a hole in the universe. He prayed for it to swallow him whole and transport him to a distant land where humiliation was illegal and embarrassment was nonexistent.

"What do you want?" Buffy demanded.

"Need to talk to Harris."

"About what?" barked a suspicious Willow.

Percy's eyes grew cold as he focused them on her. "Well, Rosenberg, I have this scaly patch on my dick, you see, and I thought maybe…"

"Gotta go!" Buffy suddenly announced, dragging a protesting Willow with her.

Xander was unsurprised at being abandoned.

"Looks like it's just the two of us," Percy leered. "Cozy."

Xander sighed and turned around, his eyes blank and his mouth set in a bored grimace. "What do you really want, West?"

Percy grinned. "Yeah, I guess my excuse was pretty thin. After all, you know there's nothing on my dick. Nothing but your lips." He cocked his head. "Or they soon will be."

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you better keep it down," Xander sneered. "What would your friends say?"

Percy took another step closer. "I don't give a fuck. I saw you watching me in the locker room."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Xander repeated. He made sure to keep his voice steady and even. He would deny everything. Sure he had looked, but so what? Nothing could be proven, and any rumor West might start had been circulating for years. No one cared.

Percy frowned. This wasn't working out as he had planned. He had fully expected Harris to cave and surrender to the glory of his cock, but the kid wasn't playing ball. And now he was wondering if he had completely misjudged the situation. Maybe Harris had been looking at someone else, or maybe it had been nothing more than a glance in his direction out of boredom; either option would prove to be really fucking embarrassing.

But Harris was hot and he wanted a piece, so he had to make sure. He leaned his head in.

"I know you were watching me, Xander," he breathed, the name sounding foreign on his tongue. They'd known each other for fifteen years, and he couldn't remember ever calling Harris by his first name. Weird. "I liked it."

Xander knew he had to play this carefully even as blood pooled into his crotch, as the scent of Percy's cologne drifted toward him like a welcoming embrace. The too blue eyes of the other boy dilated, as Xander knew his own were. If Percy could be this brazen, this unafraid of speaking openly of such matters, then he knew he could show no fear, no trace of cowardice or shame. And even if he admitted to watching, there was nothing Percy could do.

He fought demons on a nightly basis, and while he usually lost, he was more than a match for a hotheaded lacrosse jock who thought he was god's gift.

"You like being watched."

"Yeah," Percy smiled, smugly, "and I like it when you're the one doing the watching." He leaned in impossibly closer, his mouth against Xander's ear. "I like watching you, too."

"Good to know."

Percy pulled back, his brow furrowed. "What?"

"I was watching you. I liked it. You were watching me, and you liked what you saw. I liked you watching." He paused. "Is that everything? Can I go now?"

"What the fuck?" Two spots of pink highlighted Percy's cheeks as if placed there strategically by a Precious Moments artist.

Xander shrugged a shoulder. "So now we both know. How exciting. What are you going to do about it?"

The response was the most filthy smirk ever to grace the face of a teenage boy. Percy shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled away, whistling.

Xander stood there, breathing heavily, trying to dislodge the knot in his throat, one rivaled only by that in his stomach.

He couldn't believe he had just said those words, had behaved in that manner. But the thrill of confession, of acknowledgment and reciprocation, coursed through him like bottled lightning. Every nerve was on fire, every secret hope and wish pushed to the forefront of his mind. He was playing a dangerous game, he knew, but was helpless to stop himself.

In truth, he didn't _want_ to stop.

He shook his head and slammed shut his locker before hauling his bag over a shoulder. Before he could think better of it, he turned in the direction in which Percy had disappeared, only to see him lounging against a row of lockers, staring back at him, the smirk displaced by a look of quiet contemplation.

Percy nodded at him, a gesture he returned before turning on his heel and heading off for Trig. Even if nothing came of it, he told himself, at least he had been honest about who he was and what he wanted, if only for a moment.

Yet there was the dawning sense he had started something he had no idea how to finish.


	2. Wins the Race

This wasn't exactly turning out the way Percy had expected.

Wooing Xander Harris was a lot of work, far more than any previous expended effort chasing down the easy lays in his stereotypical black book.

For one thing, Xander was adamant about keeping private whatever it was they had, which, as far as Percy was concerned, was moving slower than a glacier. He didn't resent Xander's choice, as Percy certainly wasn't eager to confront either Summers or Rosenberg over the fact he wanted to screw their best friend into the mattress – or any other horizontal or vertical surface, for that matter. It was just that he was used to getting laid on a regular basis by whomever he wanted, but Xander was having none of it. It was frustrating and exhilarating all at once.

It was worth it, though.

One Xander Harris Smile, slipped to him in secret while in the hall, could fuel his fantasies for several hours. Who knew the kid was so adorable? There was this innocence which hung about him, one which Percy was loath to defile.

In many ways, Xander seemed both so much younger and older than him. There was a naïveté buoyed by a world weariness which was endlessly intriguing. The more time he spent with Xander, which was regrettably not nearly enough, the more he came to like him as a person, not just a piece of meat.

Of course, that didn't mean his interest in Xander's meat had flagged. If anything, he wanted it more now than ever. But he was also willing to take it slow, let things develop. Almost as if they were in a relationship.

Which they weren't, of course. No way.

Absolutely not.


	3. Inappropriate

The wheels were just spinning, spinning, spinning, and Percy didn't like it.

Okay, so maybe he had been a little presumptuous in expecting Xander to slobber over him like Pavlov's dog, but mutual interest had been declared and each wanted to explore the possibilities. There had been little exploration, however. Not even over-the-clothes molestation.

Even more irritating was that Percy found himself unable to walk away despite his frustration. There had been offers from other people, all of which had been declined in favor of Harris, but aside from some longing looks and cutesy notes, nothing had happened.

He had _tried_ to be patient – he had. He knew this was all new to Xander, and a little terrifying, but he had done his best not to come on too strong or be overly demanding. But, shit, just sitting in the same classroom was almost more than Percy could bear.

Biology was the worst. All he wanted to do was grab Xander, bend him over the lab counter, and show him what mammals were meant to do.

Damn it, they were healthy teenage boys. There should be fucking! Or at least some oral.

Holy shitballs. Xander in his mouth.

He bit his lip and groaned softly, ignoring the curious stares sent his way. But then Xander turned around and _looked_ at him. Percy felt the heat rise in his face and groin, and slowly licked his lips, more out of nervous habit than anything else. His breath caught in his throat as he watched Xander pale and swallow heavily, his eyes dilating.

Fuck yeah. They were on the same page again, and hopefully the next one they turned would include at least partial nudity.

Xander hurriedly turned back around and ducked his head, nodding at whatever Rosenberg was whispering to him.

Oh, that little red-haired bitch.

Percy was so sick of her; she had far too much influence over Xander. The brat had busted up Harris and Chase but still wasn't satisfied. She had her strange little boyfriend and was trying to keep Xander as her side piece.

Well, he was going to show her.

Fuck this.

No, seriously, _fuck this_.

Fuck waiting and nerves and fear and potential gossip. Fuck whatever the hell Xander did at night with Rosenberg and Buffy. Fuck the weird tall dude who was boning Summers and always looking oddly at Xander. Fuck all of it!

Damn it, he had _tried_ to play this Xander's way, tried to be all nice and understanding and under the radar, but that wasn't how he operated. When he wanted something, he went after it, and he sure as hell wasn't afraid of the pack of losers who surrounded his man.

Jesus Christ, had he really just thought _his man_? How fucking queer was that?

Better yet, who gave a shit? Not him. Xander was his, and it was time everyone knew it and got the fuck out of their way.

He startled when the bell rang, but would not be swayed from his new mission. He abruptly stood, kicked out at his stool and sent it crashing into the desk behind him, and stalked over to Xander, who was watching him with huge eyes.

Stupid big Bambi eyes. Stupid _cute_ Bambi eyes.

He curled his lip and snarled at Xander, who inched closer to him out of reflex.

Percy grabbed Xander's hand and began tugging him toward the door. "Let's go."

"What do you think you're doing?" Willow demanded, rushing to put all of supplies into her backpack.

What a nerd! He slowly turned around and glared at her.

"You want to know what I'm doing, Rosenberg? I'm dragging your best friend off to the locker room so I can shove my tongue down his throat and touch him inappropriately."

Willow made guppy-face for several long, amusing moments. "Well, you can't do that!"

Percy gave her a lazy grin. "Do you hear him protesting?"

She frowned. "You haven't given him the chance!"

He grimaced and spun on his heel to face Xander. "So here's your chance. I can't do this anymore. I _won't_. I want you; you say you want me and I believe you. I don't care what anyone else thinks. I don't care what your friends think. Why do you?"

He thawed somewhat as Xander stared up at him with those stupid big eyes.

"Didn't you learn your lesson after Chase?" he sighed, shaking his head. "If this isn't going anywhere, you need to tell me now. You owe me that much."

He closed his eyes and waited. Shit, he had royally fucked this up. Xander would now dump him permanently and publicly, and he couldn't blame the kid. He should never have forced the issue like this.

But goddamn it, how long was he supposed to wait? He didn't even know what the hell they were waiting for!

Didn't Xander understand that this was huge for him, too? It wasn't every day Percy West stood up in class and professed his…like…for someone. Especially not boys, and especially not Xander Harris. Didn't he get points for that, for not trying to hide Xander away like some schizophrenic uncle?

"Percy."

He sighed, cleared his throat, and opened his eyes. "Yeah?"

Xander smiled at him. "What took you so long?"

He barked out a laugh of relief and anxiety. "Oh, you little shit."

"I'll catch up with you later, Will."

"Xander!"

"My boyfriend and I have to talk."

Percy frowned. "I'm your boyfriend now?"

"Yep."

"Just like that?"

"Uh-huh."

"You mean you were just waiting for me to make a huge ass of myself?"

"Nobody does it better," Xander said, grinning cheekily.

"Well, what if I don't want to be your boyfriend? What if I just want to screw you and then move on?"

"Then you would have given up by now."

"This was a test?"

"For both of us, I think." Xander grabbed his hand, rubbing Percy's palm with his thumb. He was silent for several seconds. "Did we pass?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On how long you're going to make me wait for that inappropriate touching."


	4. This

Finally, they were getting somewhere, and wherever the hell it was had better include some relief for his aching cock. He still wasn’t sure how it all happened, how he had gone from declaring himself to Rosenberg as Harris’ boyfriend, to here, backed up against a wall of lockers in an abandoned hallway with Harris looking deeply into his eyes, so sure some answer must be lurking within.  
  
He didn’t like this type of scrutiny. Didn’t want it, hadn’t invited it, no matter what declarations he had made. He felt naked, exposed, inappropriately thrilled. His thighs quivered from the sheer effort of standing up beneath that steely gaze, so afraid of failing an estimation that two weeks ago wouldn’t have bothered him. What the fuck was happening to him? What had Harris done to him? What spell had he cast?  
  
“You’re a witch.”  
  
Harris’ eyes crinkled in amusement, silent laughter plain on his face, though not mocking. It was gentle. Harris was gentle. Why was that so exciting? Gentle wasn’t supposed to be exciting. It was boring and pedantic and not worth the trouble. But, Christ on a bike, Harris was _so_ fucking worth the trouble.  
  
“Why are you scared of me?” Xander asked.  
  
The question wasn’t threatening or pleading, just plainly stated, and it caught Percy off-guard. He _was_ scared, but why? Harris couldn’t do anything to him. Harris couldn’t hurt him.  
  
But he could.  
  
“But I won’t," Xander whispered. "The question is, will you hurt me?”  
  
That’s what scared Percy. That it was within his power to hurt Harris. That Harris was easily hurt. That a day might come when he would _want_ to hurt Harris and could do so by a word or a lack of response or simply turning away.

“I don’t want to,” Percy finally said.  
  
Harris inched closer, his hands on either side of Percy’s head, the gaze not abating. “So don’t.”  
  
He fought to meet those brown eyes, those unfair eyes which had seen more than Percy himself could even conceive. _Not hurting_ Harris meant investing in him, and this, fully. It meant not playing games like the one he just had with that stupid, interfering girl. It meant not provoking Harris for the sake of a response. It meant so many things, so many things that he wanted, and perhaps that’s what scared him most of all.  
  
And Harris knew. That was absolutely terrifying, that Harris had some power, some gift, where he could look at a person and see not through them, like Chase could, but _into_ them, into all their hidden corners and uncharted crevasses.  
  
And that was when Percy knew that his choice was already made, had been for awhile, and that was the source of Harris’ fixed stare. Harris wanted to know, _needed_ to know, that he wasn’t in this alone, that Percy too was scared and confused and hopeful and enthralled. Harris wanted a partner. Not just in a gay way, but in a _life_ way. Maybe like a _lifeline_. But could he do that? It was no longer a question of want, but capability. Could he be that unselfish, that direct?  
  
He was sure as hell going to try. “I’m sure.”  
  
“Of?”  
  
 _You. Me._ “This.”  
  
Slowly, reverently, Xander reached up and cupped with his hand Percy’s cheek.   
  
Dark lashes fluttered closed over deep blue eyes. “You know, this wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked about inappropriate touching.” Percy sighed and leaned into the caress. “But this is good, too.”


End file.
